


A crimson headache; aching blush.

by pflaume



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fate & Destiny, Gangs, Heist, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 15:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15489111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pflaume/pseuds/pflaume
Summary: "Chaos."





	A crimson headache; aching blush.

**Author's Note:**

> monochromatic au  
> trigger warning: blood !!
> 
> i'm so stressed so i had to write. i am: sorry for this word vomit.
> 
> based on a prompt i saw in tumblr (if you know the link to it, hmu so i can give the proper credits)! ♡

Planning a heist in general wasn't unfamiliar to Seungcheol. The man had done more dangerous stunts his soul couldn't sell for. Of course, it came more of a necessity than of leisure but he would be a big hell of a liar if he says he doesn't enjoy the rush of adrenaline that has kept him alive for the past seven years of his life; not to mention the privileges the money from it could benefit him with. It latched onto him like a sick disease that has slowly ebbed his remaining confidence of what the future could bring to his plate.

So when Joshua, his altogether pseudo brother from his so-called army, has suggested a museum heist, Seungcheol did not move more than a slight upturn of one side of his lips. Besides, this was Joshua, the brain of the crew; the one who makes sure Mingyu doesn't fuck up the maintenance of their get-away van; the only one member of the team who could con anywho he likes, probably even Edward Scissorhands.

Junhui has rebelled against the idea at first. "You're kidding, right?" A chuckle came along with it, as if throwing nonchalance makes a good cover up of how his hands have gripped on tighter the armrests of his seat.

Seungcheol reads through the weak and superficial front like the good observer that he is. Instinct, he'd like to say, but being perceptive is what has been helping him to stay foot on the game, may it be a convenience store robbery or a simple pickpocketing in the streets. Junhui was a new crew member and the nerves he's getting are understandable but Seungcheol iterates loyalty on each one of them so he prods just to shake the young man. "Perhaps, you're scared of the authority, Junhui?"

This piques the interest of the two young men from four feet away. "You're considering this, hyung?" Mingyu has been always the softest member of the gang, always the person with ample manners; the one who always refuses to victimize women because he just can't stomach it.

"It's risky." Wonwoo, on the other hand, is just as keen as Seungcheol; a member so calculative he can cipher and project distances just by counting off seconds inside a moving vehicle. Someday, Seungcheol thinks, maybe he can retire, live alone, and give the leader status to Wonwoo.

Seungcheol clocks in everyone's decision. He makes sure of that. Every stunt they made have been well consented on at least majority of the crew. So he picks up a piece of crumpled paper and throws it at the young man slumped on the kitchen table. "Sol, what do you say?"

Hansol groans, as if being disturbed is the last thing he would choose a bomb be planted on their very own floor at any moment. Being the most pliant that he is; dogs around everyone and is usually off the surface of the earth, mentally that is, he nods, "Yeah, sure. We're also running out of funds. It's not like we can live off stolen grocery shit."

"That makes three versus three," Joshua chirps from beside the refrigerator, a wide smile rolling up to scrunch the corners of his eyes as if he only suggested a mere college club project and not an activity that involves guns and theiving.

"Make it four versus three." The doorway opens to a Chinese young man, dripping wet from the pouring rain outside and successfully making everyone turn their heads toward him. He shakes himself off in a futile attempt to dry before he pads along the foyer with cups of coffee in his hands. "I've always wanted an exhibit for myself," he shrugs and squeezes himself between Mingyu and Wonwoo. "Couldn't get one so let's go get me an exhibit."

Seungcheol grins, pure mirth pulling on his lips at sudden Minghao's proclamation of fancy. "Illegally," he corrects.

"Illegally."

 

 

****

 

Planning a museum heist, on the other hand, wasn't familiar to Seungcheol. Sure, they've been in the business for years but it has only involved contracted assassinations, casino and high end jewelry store larceny; nothing with big ass frames and heavy things to haul. The boys have come round to the plan at three days later, throwing in suggestions of what paintings and works should belong to them and researching even those that aren't familiar to the gang.

 

 _"I like this one!"_  
  
_"It's all red, Hansol."_  
  
_"What color is red again?"_  
  
_"When you're angry, that's red."_  
  
_"Your description sucks."_  
  
_"Fuck if I can also see hues other than black and white."_  
  
_"Let's just steal a statue."_  
  
_"That's a big block of stone, Mingyu. You're a fucking dumbass."_  
  
_"Well, at least I don't cry when I get shot."_

 

So when the loud shrill of the museum alarm first penetrates the whole third floor at two a.m., the three boys have instantaneously gone rigid. It took also three seconds for Seungcheol to snap back into his usual character but not without a loud shout of "Fuck you, Joshua!"

The panic percolates slowly at first in Joshua's face as he reaches for his gun holster and sprints for the stairs, both Seungcheol and Minghao in tow behind him. The painting is left on the floor. "Did I miscalculate something?" _Shit, shit, shit, police may be on the way. We're fucked._

"You clearly did!" Seungcheol hollers, hard focus still prominent on his face even though he's covered mostly with a mask. They have never been in this situation before, their freedom on the line. It has been a series of successful attacks even considering that one time Junhui got shot in the foot that they had to drag him back, bleeding probably almost one-fourth of the blood his body encases, into the van. Seungcheol, admittedly, had been afraid for Junhui but what's happening right now, imagining all his members and their lives on the line, is a far cry from what he felt back then.

They're met with Mingyu and Wonwoo on the second floor and Seungcheol picks nerve at the lack of numbers in them. "Where are the others?" he demands, jacking in steps by steps to get to the bottom and also trying not to show the slight agitation of his movements.

"They're safe inside the van. Also I got that one you asked for," Wonwoo quips to Seungcheol and Minghao respectively. There's a slight smile in his voice, calming everyone down and saying _'chill, I got it all covered'._ Of course, he trusts his calculative Wonwoo.

This is the adrenaline that Seungcheol signed up for.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go," Mingyu chants, already going in for a mad run to which the rest of them have followed too. The run towards the ground entrance felt like the longest run Seungcheol have taken all his life. The siren sings inside his head, going off, but he kept his eyes on the backs of his members, always the one to make sure no one gets left behind.

It was when the boys skid around the hallway towards their phony rendezvous for an escape route that someone roars from behind them, "Police! Freeze!"

No one dared to 'freeze', of course.

A bullet whips past Seungcheol just as Joshua mutters, "They won't shoot."

The next thing they knew, Wonwoo already is toppling on towards himself in a sudden crash. Mingyu is the first to cry out, "Hyung!" Of course it was Mingyu, always the distracted one; the one who lets emotions maneuver himself as the others simultaneously pulls out their guns and retaliated bullets after bullets in an effort of saving themselves.

"Assholes!" Seungcheol roars through the defeaning back and forth of rain of explosions from behind a pillar of stone where Mingyu has robotically managed to grab Wonwoo with him. Anger seemingly tries to seize him upon spotting the bloom of dark stain on Wonwoo's shirt. The shot isn't fatal but he might lose a lot of blood if they stayed longer.  
  
  
A leader has to do what he has to do.  
  
  
They all book to a mad run through hail of Seungcheol's gun. Joshua has refused to leave him behind but he had him on chokehold and reminded him of Plan B.

 

The man dives into the other hallway; practiced stealth and cognition as he start to draw in his head the blueprint of the museum that Hansol has shoved in his nose in the middle of a videogame with Junhui. He knows he's outnumbered but this was a gripping advantage as he ducks into a familiar room and behind the statue Mingyu was so keen on talking about.

Seungcheol doesn't have a tasteful background on education much more growing up with people that don't give him a second glance but he was made for stealth; he was made for this kind of rush that gives him the exquisite feeling of the gun in his hand. The man has learned to revel that as long as his crew isn't involved when a life is on the line (even his own life) the show is going to continue.

Therefore the lazy grin that spreads across his lips when he hears the faint cock of a gun inside the adjacent room isn't staged; isn't one for show. Slowly, he emerges from his spot, joins in the seemingly empty room and raises a gun to the officer's head, who was standing there uncovered.

"New one, eh? Didn't they tell you don't leave your post without a backup?" Seungcheol lowly whispers, pressing the cold mouth of the gun against the enemy's nape. The familiar brew of delicious rush grips him in the bones again, telling him to pull the trigger.

Much to his amusement, the officer languidly turns around; a move Seungcheol did not quite take into consideration as the other steps confidently back and also raises a gun right infront of Seungcheol's forehead. "Didn't mummy tell you not to steal things that don't belong to you?"

They had each other at gun point when Seungcheol sees it.

The hue that represents anger, the one Mingyu was talking about. But it isn't just anger, it was also passion, scorching through everything that hinders its way; unstoppable, just like Seungcheol's bad habit of theiving: _red_. Red is the color of the officer's fringes that peek out of the cap he restrains them with.

The second hue inks ice. It's the color of his jeans. The lack of ardor and fire that gives way to chill and impassivity; Seungcheol's absence of demise or fear of death: _blue_. Blue is the feeling of the cold hard mouth of the gun against his head that the stranger is pointing at him.

The third one strays to level-headedness. The center of the extremes that pulls him right at his center and that keeps him the balance; the fact that Seungcheol enjoys the simple things like the afternoon glow albeit being one of the outcasts of society: _brown_. Brown is the color of his eyes, extremely delicate with light specks of caramel that holds awe, surprise and, Seungcheol could see right through them, horror.

"Who are you?" _Gray_ is the color of the enemy's voice with strain and something like pain when his hand holding the gun stutters. It involved confusion, musky like the cologne Seungcheol can thoroughly smell through the sweat dripping in his temples.

Gray is also the color of Seungcheol's hair when he pulls his cap and mask off, confidently divulging his identity to his soulmate because he knows he won't do anything that would cause his endㅡ he just knows. It blinks lowly under the gray incandescence of the flourescent light inside the room. "Who would've thought the color brown was this beautiful?" Seungcheol asks, unbothered, wholly encaptured by the person infront of him as his arms slack and he lowers his gun.

"Put them back on!" _Green_ was the greed that makes its way up to Seungcheol's throat when his soulmate roars at him to keep his mask on; the want to haul him on his shoulders and keep him for himself. The stranger swivels and shoots right at the cameras inside the room before he maneuvers it back right at Seungcheol's face.

The thief kisses it once before he ducks, right in time someone shouts, "Officer Yoon!"

A loud bang follows and in came Joshua heaving like a madman, a big bright smile on his face. "Am I late?"

Seungcheol knows they probably won't meet again but he gives the stunned officer a last glance and he says, "Chaos." A late answer to a proposed question that hung moments ago. It was _lilac_ , the dawn of realization on his pretty face.  

 

 

Seungcheol successfully makes an escape with Joshua but not without his thoughts reeling back on the masterpiece standing in the middle of art ruins that has splayed colors all around him; a gun in his hand and pain in his eyes.

"A museum heist is a bad idea, Joshua. Let's not do that again."

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> p.s. this is only a one shot so you can all freely conclude what happened after.


End file.
